A/N: Prepare yourselves, this chapter is a shocker! It's actually an important part of the plot, which is turning into a full-length novel. I'm expecting this story to be my longest ever- for at this point, DtD is now 100 pages long! It's amazing how I managed to write this up, put up Christmas decorations, draw, and study for the SAT at the same time! Wish me luck, come 7:30 AM I'll be trapped in a cafeteria for.. oh.. FIVE HOURS on Saturday. All of you 11th grade and below have something to look forward to ::evil grin::.
Well then, I won't keep you any longer... this is a great chapter, in my opinion, and I've really toned my writing skills... at least I think so. Enojy, and DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW!
DISCLAIMER: No, I did not kiddnap J.K. and do not have her tied to my computer chair, forcing her to write THIS story. What I DID kiddnap is the name Potter... and anything else she came up with. Otherwise, it's all MY doing!


Chapter Seven: The Darkest Night


Perhaps because of the distant look in Timothy's eyes, or his flat smile, or his unusual silence, others choose not to bother with Timothy for the rest of the afternoon. Darian simply walked beside him, glancing at him every now and then with a worried look. John stayed slightly behind, staring at the floor, but when his gaze met Timothy's, Timothy got the feeling that John knew what the issue was. Nobody had talked about John's secret allergy. John never brought it up again… and Timothy kept his promise never to either. He wasn't too sure about Darian though. Darian had a big mouth, but he seemed to had forgotten about it.

At dinner, Darian was babbling on to Timothy how excited he was. Not more than an hour before then, Professor Mali came to Darian and told him that he was invited to try-out for the Gryffindor team as well. Timothy tried to show congratulations for him, but it was with a forced smile. Darian was too excited to notice Timothy's pained look, he wouldn't even eat. John, on the other hand, ate quietly like usual.

When dinner was over, Darian didn't give Timothy any time to swallow the only bite he had taken before grabbing his arm and dragging him out of the Great Hall.

"I'll come and watch!" John cried out suddenly, making Timothy's eyebrows raise slightly.

Hagrid wished them luck as they entered Gryffindor tower to retrieve Timothy's new broom. In their dorm, Timothy stopped in the doorframe to see both Bran and Bobby polishing brooms themselves.

"Isn't this great?!" Bobby shouted, nodding happily at Darian.

"Worth a shot… to try out, I mean. We all know Timothy's going to make it." Bran said, slapping a hand on Timothy's back as he reached for the package on his bed.

Opening it, the custom-made broom… shiny and never before been used… rolled to hover at the right height for Timothy to mount. There was a unanimous gasp as the golden letters, Dragonsfire 800, gleamed in the dwindling sunlight straining into the room. His eyes sweeping the long handle, custom-designed for his grasp, Timothy couldn't help to loose himself in it's bliss. There wasn't a closed jaw in the whole room.

"You. Are. The. Luckiest. Boy. I. Know." Bran said, looking at the broom longingly, and glancing at his own with distaste.

"Bet your dad has the same one, huh?" Bobby whispered, touching one of the birch twigs with caution.

"He has a Dragonsfire 550. Mum won't let him buy another broom for a while, I'm not even sure she knows I have this." Timothy said, finally taking the broom in his grasp and slinging it over his shoulder. He could have sworn it made a metallic hum in his ear as if it held immense power… which it actually did, for a broom.

Darian looked, for the first time in hours, glum.

"What's wrong?" Timothy asked as they left the dorm, both Bran and Bobby following.

Darian shrugged and shoved his hands in his robe pockets.

"I don't even have a broom. How can I be on the team without one?"

"Well, if… if you make the team, your mum will buy you one. Or your dad, even."

"Not sure we could afford it. I mean, we're not poor, but we can't afford anything that could match or surpass anything you own." Darian muttered.

Timothy opened his mouth to say something, but figured it best not to. There was no use arguing, he didn't have the mind to at that moment. Things were playing through his mind that was making him more and more confused. So much so, that he didn't even acknowledge Hagrid when he wished them luck again when they left the tower.

Prove that you can do something, Timothy. Fly like you've never flown before! Show them what you're capable of, use what your father has taught you! Said one voice.

Don't be stupid, Timothy! You show off… people will hate you for doing so. No one wants to be friends with someone who tries to be someone your not. Might as well save yourself the grief and just back out. Your father got on the team for being a natural and not knowing. If you make it, it will only be because of him… not for what you can do. Another voice taunted him.

The arguments in his head were so preoccupying, that he nearly trampled someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He sputtered, throwing his arms up in surprise.

He had nearly stepped on Luna Dine once more. Timothy sighed, heartily annoyed by his constant collisions with this small Hufflepuff. Darian, Bran, and Bobby were looking over his shoulder, stifling giggles.

"Timothy!" Luna shrieked. But instead of her usual expression of eternal apology and embarrassment, her eyes were wide with fear. She stumbled backwards from him as if he were dangerous, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth.

"Luna, it's alrig-…" Timothy began, but Luna simply shook her head vigorously, beginning to cry, and ran off in the opposite direction.

"What was that about?" Bran asked, nudging for Timothy to move on.

Timothy shook his head, as Darian jumped beside him, his excitement having returned.

"Oh, that little Hufflepuff just has a crush on him, that's all." He teased, making Timothy go red.

"Really?" Bobby chimed.

"No!" Timothy shouted. He then put on his most determined face and marched down the main stairwell and out of the castle, his friends giggling and following.

The Quidditch pitch was illuminated magically, so bright that Timothy squinted as he entered the field. It was the first time he had seen it, and it was just as impressive as his father had described. His friends were all shell-shocked at the sight, and Timothy smiled for the first time since that morning. A small group of older students stood with Professor Miller and Professor Mali in the middle of the field. Glancing over the immense array of bleachers, Timothy could just make out John… and his Uncle Lupin. His heart skipped a beat.

"Uncle Lupin is here?" He blurted out before realizing it.

"Uncle Lupin?" Both Bran and Bobby inquired.

"Uhh…" Timothy moaned stupidly, before Darian saved him.

"Look, they're ready for us, let's hurry up!"

Grabbing Timothy's arm, they jogged over to the small group of waiting people. When they came clearer into Timothy's vision, he first saw a beaming Keanu Nole. He smiled back and nodded to the other players, before he laid eyes on the last and seventh one. Timothy could have died on the spot.

Taku Smith. Smiling evilly and nodding with suspicious knowing.

"Ah, finally. Let's get this over with, shall we?" Taku said coolly. The other team members, including Keanu, rolled their eyes and crossed their arms.

"B'duhh…" Timothy gasped incoherently. Darian simply grimaced and both Bran and Bobby looked white as ghosts.

"I'm sure you're all excited, but let me first introduce the rest of the team." Professor Miller said, unaware of the dangerous air. "Timothy, you've met Keanu Nole… but of course, the others haven't, so, everyone, this is Keanu Nole and he's the team captain and seeker. Our two chasers are Pena Nole and Jane Neeks. The best keeper in the world just so happens to be this fine young man, Albus Moran. And, last but not least, our two beaters… Seamore Walters and Taku Smith."

The other beater, Seamore Walters, looked very ruffled and did not seem to want to be there. Both adults and Keanu looked troubled as Taku's name was mentioned. Timothy suddenly had a sinking feeling that he knew why the team was having problems.

"Alright then, let's go." Taku muttered, crossing his arms.

Professor Miller sighed deeply and nodded with a defeated look. Professor Mali stepped forward to Timothy, Darian, Bran, and Bobby.

"Now, does everyone here know how to play Quidditch at least?"

Everyone nodded, the mood lightening slightly.

"Well, that was a dumb question… but it would have been dangerous to send you up in a mock game without knowing the rules. Anyway, the team and Professor Miller will watch from the stands. When I release the balls, I'll blow the whistle and you can start. The position is for a Chaser, so all of you will be going after a Quaffle. The team will then choose the better player… not just for skills, but for sportsmanship and the like. Understood?"

Again, everyone nodded, filling with determination.

"Right then, mount your brooms." Professor Mali handed Darian a broom and he thanked her quietly as they spread out and mounted. Despite all the doubts he was having earlier, Timothy was once again in his element and he felt calmer than he had all afternoon. However, just as he was grinning to himself, he glanced over at the stands… only to see Taku Smith looking directly at him, his arms still crossed. The smug, knowing face Taku was throwing at him made Timothy swallow hard. Then, suddenly, Professor Mali's whistle blew, and he snapped back just in time to follow the others into the air.

There were more Quaffles than usual since it was only the try-outs. They simply had to show how good they were at scoring goals. Naturally, Timothy's dream was on being a Seeker… but the team already had one. His father had taught him the highlights of every position, but mainly that of Seeker… since he was one. Despite it all, Timothy took every ounce of energy he possessed at that moment and forced it all to focus on what he was doing. Balls and players whizzed by his face, but he spotted a lone Quaffle and a clear lead well within reach. It was at that moment that he realized that he hadn't even flown a Dragonsfire 800 before and was not used to it.

"Woooooooaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh! Oh. My. Gosh! This is swwwwwweeeeeeeeettttttt!" He wailed as he leaned forward on his new broom, which had instantly rocked from 10 MPH to about 60 in 1 second! Before he knew it, Timothy was on top of the Quaffle and whacked it clear into one of the three fifty-foot high goal post hoops.

Darian stopped dead with another Quaffle and stared with awe. Bobby nearly knocked himself into one of the goal posts, his eyes locked on the Dragonsfire. Bran, however, made quite a spectacular goal himself, after doing a loop-de-loop and a spiral hit.

For the next twenty minutes, they soared above the Quidditch field, making goal after goal. Timothy's performance was anything less than amazing… particularly with his new professional broom. Then, Professor Mali allowed the number of balls to dwindle, until before long only one Quaffle was left. It hovered silently in the air before everyone put their brooms into top speed. For Timothy, top speed was 200 MPH in less than 10 seconds.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!" He couldn't help but cry as the wind began to tear his face back, strain his glasses (threatening to blow them off), and blur his vision. Timothy didn't even realize he was holding the Quaffle until he nearly went through the goal post himself. Pulling back on his broom, it stopped dead, and Timothy nearly fell completely face-forward to the ground before righting himself just in time to make the goal.

The whistle blew, and Professor Mali motioned for them all to land.

"Excellent! A wonderful performance from all of you! My, this is going to be a hard decision for the team, I'm sure. They're all going to go into the locker room right now and make their choice. All of you can wait in the stands until they come out with the name they want on the team." She shepherded them up to the bleachers, where, waiting for Timothy, was Lupin. John was there as well, and waved to him and Darian as they approached.

"Great job, Timothy!" Lupin beamed, pulling Timothy into a hug.

Panting, Timothy smiled and fixed his glasses.

"If only your father could have seen that, I'm sure he'll be ecstatic just to hear about it! And, as much as she'd hide it, your mother will sure be happy. She's a good flyer too, you know." Lupin smiled.

"I thought mum told you to make sure I didn't… er… highlight my abilities." Timothy cocked his head, grinning.

Lupin blushed slightly, and nodded with a thoughtful expression.

"Emm, yes, she did. But, I've come to realize that it's not really my place to tell you what to do with your talents. If you want to show how good you really are, by all means, be my guest. It's your choices, however, that makes you who you are, though. Think things through before you act, just a little advice, that's all."

"You were also excellent as well, Darian." Lupin called over his shoulder to Darian, who was chatting happily with a quite John.

"Thank you, Professor!" Darian cried, a smile so large it split his whole face.

Timothy was high with excitement and the rush of adrenaline remained pumping through him. Lupin ruffled his hair much the same way his father did, and motioned for him to sit down beside him. But Timothy couldn't sit still, all his troubles were forgotten. It didn't matter anymore and he didn't care. He did what he was best at… and if it was the same thing his father was also best at too, well then so be it.

"How long is it going to take for them to decide?" He asked Lupin.

He shrugged.

"They can be out at any minute or be in there all night. I tell 'yeh though, all of you were very impressive. It won't be easy to come to a quick decision."

Inpatients came quickly to Timothy, and he practically bounced in his seat, wanting the team to come out at that moment. His eyes wandered everywhere; Bobby and Bran were conversing with a mix of happiness and nerves down towards the field. Darian was demonstrating the proper way to hold a broom to John, who was looking at it distastefully. His Uncle Lupin seemed lost in thought, perhaps caught up in a long forgotten memory. Timothy gripped his wonderful broom tight with apprehension. When will he know?

After an hour, however, Timothy's energy was drained by the wait. Lupin looked about ready to fall off to sleep, his chin resting on his fist. Darian had long since stopped trying to convince John about the joys of flying a broom, and busied himself with boring the minds out of Bran and Bobby… who looked dead with exhaustion. Timothy was now sitting quiet and still, his eyes locked on the doors to the locker rooms.

Any minute now, any minute… He chorused in his mind.

"Alright?"

Timothy jumped and turned to see John sitting beside him. He smiled slowly at him, and Timothy smiled wearily back.

"Yeah," Timothy answered quietly, turning to look back at the doors. "I just can't wait to hear their decision."

"I understand," John nodded, turning to look with Timothy. "Can't imagine how you must be feeling right now."

A chilled wind blew through their hair, and Timothy realized just how late it was. Beyond the still bright lights of the Quidditch field, the sky was as black as slate. When he glanced back over at John, his brown hair blowing messily with the wind, Timothy sensed something from him… but wasn't quite sure what. When John turned to look at him, Timothy returned his gaze to the locker room doors… which opened!

"Here they come!" Timothy couldn't stop himself from shouting.

Lupin was shook abruptly from his stupor, Darian leapt to life and bounded onto the field to stand with Bobby and Bran. Timothy ran to join them, Lupin and John trailing slowly behind.

As Timothy stared at the oncoming team members, his face fell slightly at the sight of all of their disgruntled and heated faces. The only one, the last member of the team to leave the locker room, held a triumphant face. Taku Smith was practically bouncing on his heels. Timothy tried not to let that fool him.

Professor Miller finally came out of the locker room, and ran to catch up with the team, who had positioned themselves in front of the four possible Chasers. Each team member, with the exception of Smith, looked outraged and worn. Timothy looked at them each in turn, a pit developing once again in his stomach.

When he reached Professor Mali, Professor Miller whispered (what Timothy assumed was the new Chaser's name) into her ear. At first she looked at him with disbelief, then with what was unmistakably anger. She turned to glare momentarily at Taku Smith, who grinned back at her, then her face fell… and she seemingly forced it into a smile as she turned to face Timothy and the others.

"The team has come to a decision. I'm sure it was a really, really, really close call. However, despite all of your fantastic and worthy skills… only one player can be chosen. It is now my duty to announce that the team has chosen Bran Acott as their new Chaser."

Timothy tried with all his might to withhold his immense disappointment. Tried with all the energy he still possessed to stand tall. Tried… tried not to cry.

"Really?" Bran gasped, stumbling forward as Keanu (somewhat dejectedly) shook his hand, followed by the rest of the team. When Taku Smith took his hand, Taku did not look at Bran… but instead looked shrewdly at Timothy. Timothy looked away quickly, and felt a large and comforting hand fall on his shoulder.

"Come on, Timothy. Let's go warm up a bit…" Lupin muttered, his voice dark.

Timothy allowed himself to be steered around, and he just glanced John, who was looking deeply apologetic at him. Darian looked crushed, and with a last look at Timothy, John took Darian's shoulder and walked him behind Timothy and Lupin.

Once free of the lights from the Quidditch field, the night enveloped them all in darkness. It was the darkest night Timothy had ever seen… and the shadows the castle windows threw on the grounds seemed to mock him… laughing at the darkest thoughts that plagued his mind. Never before had Timothy felt as defeated as he did at that moment. How disappointed his father would be… his mother's sagged shoulders. His sister would simply be confused, convinced that her brother could do anything. Now he'll be looked upon as a famous loser. Good for nothing… only recognized by how he looked and his name. Timothy felt that if he failed at Quidditch, the one thing he was truly good at, he couldn't do anything.

Staring at his shoes, Lupin still guiding his shoulders, they stepped into the castle. Lupin sent Darian and John to bed, John nodding in agreement and taking the also sulking Darian, upstairs. Timothy only glanced up to see Lupin's deeply concerned and most fatherly face looking down at him kindly.

"I have some cocoa in my office, I believe. We can relax there, come on."

And he took Timothy's hand, leading him up some stairs and into his large office. He flicked his wand, lighting some candles, and led Timothy to an extra-large armchair. With another wave of his wand at the fire, a kettle and some mugs appeared. Lupin poured them some cocoa and handed a mug to Timothy, he simply stared at it blankly.

It was as if he wasn't there. Timothy was only remotely aware that Lupin was considering him carefully. For the longest time, there was silence. Timothy didn't move, he never felt so low.

"I know what you're feeling."

Timothy looked up slowly with his dead face.

"Completely, and utterly horrible. Defeated, and feeling as if you can never do anything again. And, I'm sure, afraid of what your father will say when he finds out." Lupin spoke for him.

Timothy looked back down at his feet, nodding ever so slightly.

"It's not true, you know. You were the best player out there, and you know the reason why you weren't chosen."

"You're just saying that." Timothy whispered.

Lupin was quiet a moment.

"No," He said quietly, smiling. "I'm not. You saw the looks on those player's faces. They were upset… obviously their decision wasn't entirely unanimous. It has to be, you know. In Quidditch, when choosing a player, the vote must be unanimous. There was at least one player who differed the vote.

"You know that you are good enough, Timothy. You played the best you could possibly do. It was because of the immaturity of one individual that you didn't make it. It's not fair, but unfortunately you have to deal with it."

"Everyone expects me to be like my parents… but I'm not. I haven't done anything as great as they have! How could I possibly live up to what they've done? I'm only famous because of my name. Quidditch is… was… the only thing I could do. Now I haven't even lived up to that… Dad got on the team at eleven." Timothy said suddenly, fighting tears.

Lupin's smile was gone, and he looked away with a frown. He seemed, again, lost in thought… and nothing was said for a while. Timothy felt himself slipping back to succumb to that voice… the voice that told him how worthless he really was.

You're a nobody, Timothy. A nobody… and you forever will be. You're good for nothing.

"You're family has been cheated, severely." Lupin muttered, almost bitterly, breaking Timothy from his gloom. "First your grandparents… killed so young. Your father's family ripped from him… being forced to live with people who thought he was as good as dirt. Living in a cupboard half his life. Then to deal with sudden fame for something he couldn't remember, and forced to face the most evil of evil alone when he was only your age. Your mother was the best thing to happen to him, she was… and though she most likely doesn't regret it, she was thrown into sudden struggle along with your father. She lost her brother, your uncle and namesake. But you came along, and you made their lives a hundred times more happier than ever before. You are something special, just like your parents. And, just like your parents, you have unfair hardships too. Unfortunately, all because of them. It's all about being a Potter, I suppose.

"But know this, Timothy. You are who you want to be. No one, not even your parents, can tell you who you ought to be and what you should do with your life. It's your choice. It doesn't matter what everyone else says, but what you say. You are not your parents… you are your parent's son, and that makes you capable of anything."

Timothy stared at his Uncle Lupin for a long time, his words hitting his heart. Perhaps he was right. He most likely was.

"Time for bed. Things will be alright in the morning, just you see." Lupin stood up.

Timothy staggered to his feet, and walked to the door, but stopped with his hand on the handle. He looked back at Lupin.

"You… you aren't going to tell dad… are you?" He whispered sheepishly.

Lupin smiled and sighed.

"No, but I will if you want me to."

Timothy thought a moment, his mind going slow as if drenched in sludge.

"Perhaps… perhaps, I should tell him?"

Lupin nodded, as if he said the right answer in class.

"Maybe that's a good idea."


Timothy did wake up the following morning feeling better. Looking out the window, it was as if he was given a new chance at proving his worth. Darian, on the other hand, looked as depressed as ever. John was his usual quiet self, and convinced Darian to get out of bed. Timothy was sure he would get some attention for losing the position, but figured most of it would be focused on Bran. That made him feel better, somehow, he didn't want to think about the things that had ran through his mind the night before.

How wrong he was.

To put it simply, the whole school was in shock and disbelief. He was greeted in the common room with a flutter of confused questions as soon as he was seen.

"What happened?"

"Why didn't you make the team, Timothy?

"I would have thought you would of made it."

"Are you ill, is that why?"

"I heard that you were knocked off your broom by a giant bat, is that true?"

"Your dad made it when he was in his first year, why didn't you?"

The last question hit him like a brick, bringing dread back upon him. John, who had been trying desperately to pull both Timothy and Darian out of the common room, now took advantage of his larger stature and forced their way out through the crowd. They stumbled out behind the portrait of Hagrid, who looked down at Timothy with sympathy and concern.

"'Jus 'eard the news." He muttered. "So sorry, Tim'thy. Bet'er luck next year, then?"

All Timothy managed was a comprehending moan, while John took him roughly by the arm and dragged him down the corridor. Darian sulked behind them.

Every soul they past turned to look disbelieving at Timothy.

News travels fast, doesn't it? Timothy asked himself.

John didn't give Timothy time to see more than the frowns every student shot at him. Darian was not so much as blinked at, and it perhaps made him appear to feel worse.

"Let's eat outside today," John ordered more than suggested. "I'll get us something to eat."

And so he left them sitting on the steps leading to the main doors. Darian didn't say a word, he was lost in his own world. Timothy tried his best to cheer up, and did so by trying to cheer up Darian.

"Well, there's always next year, Darian." He said, trying to lift his voice.

"Easy for you to say, if you didn't make it this year, you're more than guaranteed to make it next year." Darian smirked sadly.

Timothy opened his mouth to countermand him, but it was no use, it would just make him feel worse. Instead, he sighed heavily and thought of how it would be like at home if he were there. Shuddering slightly, Timothy couldn't bear to think how his father would look like… or any of his family members for that matter. The only one who would understand would be… Jeff!

"Oh, where's Jeff?! I didn't see him last night!" He shouted without thinking.

"Who?" Darian asked, distantly.

Timothy hesitated, biting his lip and cursing himself for yelling his thoughts aloud. If anyone knew Jeff was at Hogwarts, Jeff would be found and… well, Timothy didn't know what would happen… but it wouldn't be good.

"Oh… uh, this guy I know, that's all."

Darian shrugged and returned to his sulking blank stare, while Timothy got to his feet.

I would have seen him last night if he was in the dorm or the common room. He's smart enough to know not to hang out in the castle. Where else would a Jefforagon go? Timothy thought to himself.

His eyes swept the castle grounds uselessly, until they fell upon the outskirts of the Forbidden Forrest. Timothy suddenly got a wild, yet plausible idea.

"I'll be right back," He said suddenly, already walking briskly in the direction of the forest. "Tell John to eat without me."

Darian looked up, frowning.

"Where are you going? Classes will start soon."

"Just for a walk, that's all." Timothy called over his shoulder.

Darian stared at him, considering something, and got up himself.

"I'll come with you." He said to Timothy, running to catch up.

Timothy stopped and looked back at him, worriedly.

"Er… perhaps that's not a good idea. I mean, who'll tell John where I've gone?"

Narrowing his eyes, Darian pointed a suspicious finger at him.

"I dunno about you, Timothy. You sure keep a lot of secrets from us. I mean, come on, I thought we were friends. You're keeping something from us again, aren't you?"

"Sorry," Timothy muttered sheepishly. "I'm sorry and you're right. You guys are my friends and there shouldn't be anything kept from each other. It's just that… it's just that another one of my friends could be in trouble. If anyone finds him, something bad will happen to him."

Darian's old energetic smile returned.

"A friend of yours is a friend of mine, and I'm sure John will be the same way. You needn't worry about us, we'll support you and your friend all the way. Just tell me what to do and I'll do my best to help."

Timothy smiled back, relieved.

"Hey guys! What are you doing over there?"

John came jogging up to meet them, toast in his hands. He was so tall, it looked like a giraffe was bounding across the grass, his shaggy hair blowing in his wake.

"I need you and Darian to help me, John. Another friend of mine is missing and could be in trouble. I think he may be hiding in the Forbidden Forest. Can you help me find him?" Timothy asked, hopefully.

"Forbidden Forest?" John looked down at him, worriedly. "I dunno, Timothy. As much as I'd be willing to help…"

"Oh, for crying out loud, John! Help us and don't be such a wuss!" Darian cried, exasperated.

John blushed.

"We'll be late for class." He muttered, but in an agreeing tone.

Timothy beamed at them both.

"Let's go."

"By the way, Timothy," Darian asked at his side as they walked quickly to the forest's edge. "What does your friend look like?"

"Er…" Timothy hesitated again. But looking at his friends, both of them looking at him with sincerity, he felt confident that he no longer had to hide anything from them anymore. "Well, his name is Jeff… to begin with. And he's… a little short. He has a big mouth, likes to breathe fire a lot. Um, and he has a bad temper."

"Sounds like my Aunt Darla." John muttered, hands in his pockets.

"Breathes fire?" Darian asked skeptically. "What does he have, severe heartburn?"

"I guess you can say that." Timothy tried to stifle a laugh.

They came to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, which looked dark and ominous from where they stood. Each of them exchanged glances.

"Well, er, after you, I guess." John said, overly bright.

"Umm…"

"Maybe if we just call out his name, no kid here is stupid enough to go in to the forest." Darian said. Timothy blushed.

"Well, he's not exactly a kid."

John and Darian turned to him.

"What do you mean, he's not exactly a kid?"

"Er… he's sorta… different."

"How?"

"Well, he's yellow, for starters."

"Yellow?"

"And he has scales… pointy ones."

"Scales?"

"And a long tail with purple tentacle thingies on the end that can grab things."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're describing…"

"A dragon." John finished Darian's last sentence. They both broke out into laughter.

"You're pulling our leg, Timothy! You mean to tell us you have a dragon for a friend?" Darian shouted, doubling over.

"I am!" Timothy felt himself grow redder, his face annoyed.

"I think the loss of the Chaser position went to your head harder than I thought." John snorted.

"Fine then! Don't believe me! I'll find him by myself like I was going to do before!" And Timothy stomped off, leaving his two friends giggling still in the grass.

"Timothy!"

"Oh, shut up!" Timothy growled.

"Hey, excuse me for living! I'm just a 'lil 'ol dragon, don't mind me."

"Jeff?" Timothy muttered, turning to a bush that was quivering at the edge of a tree.

"No, I am the great bush of Hogwarts and I have come to speak to you with a deep voice just to see what happens. For crying out loud, wild one, do you not recognize my voice anymore? What is this school doing to you?"

Sure enough, parting the bush to see inside, Timothy found Jeff. His tail looked painfully caught in between two small, minute branches.

"What happened?" Timothy asked, reaching down to set him free.

"Well, I got into this argument with a rather rude squirrel…"

"Squirrel?"

"He was not your average squirrel, I'm starting to think this forest is… weird or something. Anyway, this squirrel told me that I was too brightly colored to hang out by the edge of the trees. I told him no, not to diss my handsome color, and he got all spazzed out! Next thing I know, I'm chasing his furry butt into this bush and my tail got caught. Been sitting here all afternoon."

"Timothy, you've really gone mental now! You're talking to a bush!" Darian and John, both still snickering, came striding over to him.

"No, look! I've found him! Jeff's tail is trapped in this bush." Timothy pointed defiantly down at the bush.

Looking at him as if he needed serious psychological help, Darian glanced slowly into the bushed… and yelped, jumping (literally) into John's surprised arms.

"What gives?" John gasped, his tall, yet skinny frame wavering with Darian's bulky weight.

"I can't believe it!" Darian muttered, dropping from John's arms. "You were right, Timothy! Man, I'm sorry!"

"Timothy? Is this… wise?" Jeff cried out worriedly.

"Did… did, umm… did that… dragon, talk?" John stammered.

Now it was Timothy's turn to laugh.

"May I introduce you to my best friend, Jeff. He's a Jefforagon."

"Really?" John's voice was now full of fascination. "I thought they were extinct."

"All but one," Jeff called up. "However, that may change if I DON'T GET MY RUDDY TAIL OUT FROM THIS FREAKING BUSH! Help… help would be a good thing at this moment!"

"Oh, right, sorry!" Timothy wailed, bending down and placing a firm grip around Jeff's tail. He pulled firmly, and Jeff began to moan and blow fire.

"Stop! STOP! It hurts!"

"Maybe we can magic him out?" Darian suggested. "Anyone know a spell for it?"

"Not yet… I'm not aware of anything that could, anyway." John said, his face falling.

"Oh, I am so going to kill that squirrel now!" Jeff wailed.

"What's going on over here? What're you boys doing out of class?"

The ground, Timothy suddenly realized, was shaking. A feeling of something large and intimidating threw a shadow over all three of the boys and Jeff. Slowly, at once, the three of them turned to face someone they had only met face-to-face once before.

A giant of giants, hair covering every inch that was not draped with heavy cloth. Hands the size of a professor's desk, feet twice that size. Their heads craned all the way back to see, what should have been a most ferocious face, but a kind and motherly expression hiding behind shaggy fur.

"You dears will be in some trouble if you don't hurry along to class, now."

Timothy now remembered her from when the three of them had stepped off the train. They had bumped into her, and she kindly steered them to the boats and took them across to Hogwarts. Since then, he had only seen glimpses of something large grace the grounds… but he had never stopped to take a good look.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, I see. Well, you and…?"

"Darian Hall."

"John Stanton."

"Oh, delighted to meet you. I'm Echolocata Whisper. Anyway, you three need to get going."

"Umm…"

"Oh, no." Timothy groaned to himself, sagging, and half-mindedly scuttling to cover the bush. However, from the giant's vantage point, it was a wonder she didn't already see Jeff.

"Something… wrong?"

He jinxed himself, and Timothy didn't even use his wand. Echolocata Whisper, gently, pushed Timothy (his heart stopping) aside and looked down at the bush.

"Oh… my!" Her voice squealed with delight. "Am I right in saying that this little dragon," She took her thumb and index finger, plucked a wide-eyed Jeff's tail from the bush's branches as if it were a splinter, and cradled the shell-shocked dragon in her hairy arms. "Is a Jefforagon?"

Numb with fear for his friend, Timothy fumbled at her feet, straining to see Jeff… but all he could see was a patch of yellow in a sea of hair high above him. John and Darian were standing well away, eyes wide, staring at the giant with awe.

"Please… Ms. Whisper, ma'am, he's my best friend! Or rather… my pet, yes! My pet! I'm sorry, I know he's not allowed at Hogwarts… but he somehow got here… oh please don't sell him or tell the headmaster! If anyone knew…"

"Come, come now, young Potter! Goodness, no! I would never do that! Why, this is a rare treasure that any wizard or witch would die to have! And no creature of this earth should be treated that way. No, no you're friend is safe with me." The giant chuckled, making the trees rattle.

She shifted a little, and to Timothy's (laughing) relief, the giant was stroking the yellow dragon so hard that Jeff's eyes bulged with every stroke. His expression was anything less than deep annoyance and embarrassment. Jeff's eyes drew downward at Timothy, dangerously.

"Make it stop!" The dragon mouthed.

"Can you… can you look after him? For me? While I'm in classes?" Timothy held his hand over his mouth to hide his broad, laughing smile.

"Oh it would be my pleasure!" Whisper chimed, drawing Jeff up with one hand (in which he fit in perfectly like an appetizer) and started to nuzzle his snout flat with her nose.

Jeff's eyes were as large as turkey platters, which instantly narrowed and suddenly flames started to singe the fur of the giant's face.

Timothy cringed horribly, covering his eyes, dreading her reaction. Jeff could be easily tossed aside like a used piece of gum and propelled an easy 200 feet away if she so much as sneezed. Surely having her face set on fire would be enough to annoy the giant into squeezing Jeff like a grape. However, she simply batted away the small flames and laughed.

"Oh, he's adorable!" She squealed.

Timothy felt faint, rolling his eyes.

"I'll keep him in my house for you, on account that you come and visit from time to time." She started to walk off. Timothy, distantly followed by a still awestruck Darian and John, had to run to keep up with the giant's walk.

"Of course! I will!"

"Timothy!" He heard Jeff moan.

The bell could just be heard chiming in the castle, and Timothy stopped dead in his tracks. Darian and John caught up with him.

"We better get to class, but we'll come visit after dinner. Bye Jeff!" Timothy, wearing a satisfied grin, took John and Darian's hands and raced up to the castle.

"Oh, we're going to have some fun, aren't we Jeff?" They could hear Whisper saying.

"TIMOTHY! YOU'RE GONNA GET IT FOR THIS!"

A/N: So... ::looks nervously at screen:: didn't think I would do that to Timothy, did you? ::Ducks blows to the head:: I couldn't make him an EXACT carbon copy of Harry, that would be too predictable. Nope, SURPRISE! Heheh, like I said, it has to do with the plot... which will show it's true colors in chapter 8, I promise you it'll start picking up... I have to! Well, now that I have you fired up... you can REVIEW and head over to Renee's site which I've been telling you is updated NEARLY everyday with stuff from me. Here's the link: http://www.theworldofreneepotter.disneyfansites.com. If you can, sign the guestbook. I've been drawing a lot, and thanks to my friend Ashlie, my people-drawing skills has gotten kick-butt BETTER! Hahah! So you can see more of it in the fan art section. AND ALSO, I wrote a little holiday something, I'm sure you'll enjoy it... it's on the front page... go check it out.
Okies, I'll stop rambling (aren't I good at it, though?) and LET YOU REVIEW and go to Renee's site. ::waves:: Expect chapter 8 next week, peeps.
::cries, 'cause she has English vocab articles to decifer::
~OrcaPotter